Islands of Ice
by momothelemur
Summary: Zuko hold Katara prisoner on his ship, intending to use her as bait, only to be infuriated by his uncle's lax attitude to security. Oneshot.


DISCLAIMER: I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender, nor am I in any way affiliated with Michael Dante DiMartino or Bryan Konietzko. This story is purely fan-made.

* * *

It had been three days since Prince Zuko had captured the Avatar's Waterbender friend, and he was already wishing he hadn't.

He had expected some level of hostility - only a fool would expect compliance from a member of a Nation who had survived the last hundred years of war - but this…it was bordering on ridiculous.

"How is our guest doing?" Uncle Iroh asked pleasantly as Zuko arrived on the deck.

Zuko breathed in the crisp air, hoping it would relieve his headache.

"She isn't our guest, Uncle, she's our prisoner," he reminded the older man through gritted teeth.

Iroh didn't look up from the book he was reading, although Zuko knew he had read it many times before. They'd been at sea for three years, after all. Instead, Iroh took a sip of his tea and sighed.

"She's a young woman," he began, in the tone Zuko knew well enough to realize a lecture was approaching. Probably one filled with metaphors and proverbs. "One who is in a great deal of distress and pain from being separated from her brother and friend."

Zuko centered his focus and punched the air in front of him. A burst of flame followed, extinguishing itself just before reaching the metallic edge of the ship.

"Yes, her pain was obvious when she wasn't screaming at me or throwing glass at my head," Zuko answered, following the punch with a fiery roundhouse kick. "Really, Uncle, why are you giving her cutlery and glasses with her meals? The crew don't get that, so the girl shouldn't either."

"Her name is Katara," Uncle Iroh told his nephew sternly. "And you need to work on your kicks."

Zuko rolled his eyes. The girl's name was the only thing he'd found out in the past three days, and that was only through her refusal to be addressed by 'peasant.' And his kicks were fine.

"Alright then," he said, annoyed. "We'll have to be careful of _Katara_ because _Katara _is a Waterbender, and if you haven't noticed, we're surrounded by water. If _Katara_ gets out of the cell, _Katara_ could capsize the ship."

"She wouldn't do that," Iroh said, going back to his book.

Zuko was unnerved at the amount of confidence in his uncle's voice and almost dreading finding out how Iroh knew. He asked anyway.

"Because she seems like a lovely young woman," was the reply. "I think you're going about talking to her the wrong way."

Zuko groaned and completed the basic Firebending set. He waited until the flames had dissipated before speaking.

"We're supposed to be interrogating her, not having a nice chat over tea and biscuits!" He was being sarcastic, but something in his uncle's expression made him close his eyes and sigh heavily. "You've actually been having tea and biscuits with her, haven't you?"

"The biscuits were a little stale, if that makes you feel any better."

"It doesn't," Zuko snapped, abandoning his exercises and stalking back into the depths of the ship.

He was well aware that young women should be treated with respect, even irritating Waterbenders, but why was Uncle Iroh not taking this seriously? If the girl knew where the Avatar was going, then this was Zuko's chance to return home with honor. If he had learnt anything during his banishment, it was that being nice didn't get you anywhere. It didn't get respect, and it didn't get answers. It got you friends, maybe, but friends got you into trouble. Otherwise what would the girl be doing here in the first place?

Meditation soothed him, if only for a short time. His mind cleared and all irritation he felt with the girl, with his uncle, with himself, melted away like the wax that dripped down the flaming candles in front of him.

A knock on the door came what seemed like years later, informing the Prince that dinner was served. Zuko opened the door to an empty corridor; not one of the crew were brave enough to stick around after interrupting his meditation.

He wondered if he should see to the girl's dinner before eating his own, but if his suspicions were confirmed and Iroh had been watching over her, there really was no problem. He'd check on her in a couple of hours.

Or at least, that had been the plan until he walked into the room were dinner was served and saw the girl kneeling at the table, chatting animatedly to Iroh. She looked up as he entered, her body stiffened and her eyes became guarded.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, the shock in his voice overriding any anger he felt.

"Eating," the girl answered, assuming she was safe because Zuko hadn't blown up immediately. Her lips curved up mockingly and she indicated whatever was speared onto the end of her knife. "Fish?"

Zuko's eyes slid from hers to Iroh's, who looked remarkably calm considering his nephew was plotting the various ways he could murder him without being discovered.

"I'm going to my room," he informed them both, snatching up his plate of food and trying to ignore how violently his hands were shaking.

"He does that," Iroh said apologetically to the girl, who laughed as Zuko left the room.

Needless to say, the food did not get eaten. It was hurled across Zuko's room where it smacked against the wall. The plate it had been on shattered, and Zuko spent the next hour picking up the pieces because, as he'd been informed many times, "he couldn't expect to be cleaned up after just because he was a Prince."

That night, he went to bed earlier than he could remember ever going before, half his mind occupied with worrying about the girl killing him in his sleep, the other half swearing revenge on his uncle for taking the girl out of the cell in the first place.

* * *

The following morning, almost surprised to still be alive, Zuko watched from the deck as the watery sun rose in the sky. He wondered if the granite clouds would deliver the snow they threatened to bring. Soft flakes were drifting down already, and his breath misted in front of him.

He hated the North Pole. Everything was snow and ice, and although there was an undeniable, almost ethereal beauty to them, he was getting sick of the icebergs that littered the ocean so carelessly. They were nothing more than uninhabitable islands of ice. It was so different from his homeland, where everything was warm and bright and lively.

He shivered slightly, and began his morning set of Firebending moves. The fire he created painted the scenery with what seemed to be the only color for miles around.

"You still need to work on your kicks, Prince Zuko."

"My kicks are fine, Uncle," Zuko answered irritably. "Good morning to you, too."

Uncle Iroh took a seat on the battered silk cushion in front of a low table. The silk cushion had come from the Fire Nation palace. Originally part of a set which rested on a recliner, Zuko had walked passed it almost every day of his life without giving it much thought. He certainly never would've guessed that, one day, it would have been amongst the precious few things he had left from his home.

"Another beautiful day," Iroh said, without a trace of irony.

"It's exactly the same as it was yesterday," Zuko muttered, slicing through the stillness with a blade of fire. "Which would be a good thing if yesterday wasn't so cold and dull."

"Its beauty is in its simplicity, Zuko," Iroh said, setting up his teapot carefully and watching as the tea inside it boiled. "There is nowhere else in the world as peaceful as this."

"There's nowhere else in the world like the Fire Nation," Zuko corrected, finishing the set and taking a seat opposite his uncle. "I don't understand why anyone would want to live anywhere else. Especially here…it's the opposite of what I'd call paradise."

Iroh took the teapot off the stand it was on and poured steaming tea into a small mug. He offered it to Zuko, who shook his head.

"That's because it's the opposite of what you know," Uncle Iroh said, sipping his tea. "Sometimes it's necessary to step out of your comfort zone to see the bigger picture."

Zuko scoffed. "I couldn't be further out of my comfort zone if I tried."

He closed his eyes and felt a cold breeze blow, pushing the snowflakes off their course. In confusion, they scattered and all seemed to land on his bare head, melting swiftly. While having a shaved head and a ponytail topknot made perfect sense in the Fire Nation, where the winter was warm and the summer was stifling, in the climate of the rest of the world it seemed foolish. But it was a symbol of his position within the royal family, of his entire culture. He would rather freeze to death than forget either of those things.

"I think Cook's still got some oats left from the last Earth Kingdom town we visited," Iroh announced, sensing he'd said something wrong. "I can go and check if you'd like."

Zuko waved an arm at his uncle. "Go ahead. Feed the girl - Katara," he corrected hastily, seeing his uncle's frown, "while you're there."

As Iroh walked off, muttering to himself, Zuko sighed. It couldn't be healthy for his uncle to be in these cold climates day in, day out, helping his nephew run around after a child. He was beyond grateful that the old man had left a life of comfort to accompany him on a mission that no one expected him to complete.

But he _would_ complete it.

He would make his father proud of him again.

Zuko shivered again as the wind picked up, and focused on raising his internal body heat. He'd have to direct the captain towards land sooner or later - there had been no sight of the Avatar's flying bison over the waters and their best chance of being found lay on whatever piece of solid ground was nearby.

He somehow didn't think that the girl would appreciate being tied to a tree again - no matter how tempting a prospect it may be - so he'd have to think of another way to detain her. The Avatar's group had been heading for the North Pole when Zuko had ambushed them, meaning that the Avatar wasn't a master at Waterbending yet. He'd probably learned a few basic moves from the peasant, but she wasn't exactly proficient in her element either.

Minutes passed by with nothing more than the wind, snowflakes and the waves for company. What was taking Uncle Iroh so long? He'd probably gotten distracted by something shiny. It happened on occasion.

Zuko gave him a few seconds more, then heaved himself up off the deck. He wasn't much of a breakfast eater, but his stomach was on the verge of rumbling and he didn't feel like facing the day ahead on an empty stomach.

He travelled through corridor after corridor, nodding at the crew members he passed and glancing in every open doorway. Eventually he was running out of options and checked the engine room.

"You see, Miss Katara, the lotus tile is rarely given the importance it deserves," Uncle Iroh was saying, indicating a tile on his Pai Sho board as the girl nodded along thoughtfully.

Zuko slammed the door shut behind him, frustration flooding his veins. His uncle and the girl looked up, startled. It gave Zuko some gratification to see the girl was wary, if not scared.

"You're kidding me with this!" he said, gesturing wildly at the board. He turned his scowl on his uncle. "She's supposed to be locked up, not losing to you in a board game!"

"Actually, I'm winning."

Zuko glowered at the girl, who glared defiantly back.

"I've been in that cell for _four days_," the girl said, spitting out the last two words. "You're delusional if you think I'm going to spend all my time there."

Zuko was ready to bang his head against the wall.

"You're a prisoner! You don't have a choice, what part of that isn't getting through to you?" He turned to Uncle Iroh in an attempt to make him understand what apparently the girl could not. "Uncle!"

"Zuko."

Zuko had only heard Uncle Iroh speak his name like that a few times; it was a warning his uncle's patience was waning fast.

"You will show respect to young women," the older man continued, his eyebrows knitting together in disappointment despite his stern tone.

"I will show respect to those who have earned it," Zuko replied with a cold look at the girl.

"You tied me to a tree, surrounded by Firebenders and pirates, blackmailed me with my dead mother's necklace, and I still didn't tell you what you wanted to know," the girl pointed out, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm glad I don't have your respect, because you sure as anything don't have mine."

There wasn't much the Prince could say to that. The girl watched him, her gaze glittering dangerously like it had the previous times they'd come face to face.

Much to his annoyance, he was the first to break eye contact. He had more important things to do than engage in a staring contest with an obstinate peasant who had an eerily terrifying glare.

"I'll be on the deck," Zuko informed his uncle. "I don't expect to see you out here again," he added to the girl as an afterthought.

He was fuming as he made his way along the corridors of the ship. Give the girl his respect? Not likely.

* * *

Morning, afternoon and half the evening had passed before Zuko saw Uncle Iroh again. After spending the majority of his time on deck, Zuko's black mood had lightened, but with a glance at the old man's face he knew that was about to change. Iroh pulled his overcoat around himself tightly and shivered in the winter night breeze. Specks of snow still danced around lazily, but neither Firebender bothered waving them away anymore.

"Don't tell me," Zuko said, leaning against the side of the ship. He looked overhead at the unusually bright moon, mentally preparing himself for whatever news his uncle was about to deliver. "Something's gone wrong." When Uncle Iroh hesitated to answer, Zuko's eyes dropped to the black ocean. "Why am I not surprised?" He rolled his eyes, trying to hide the self-pity that was swelling up inside him. "Alright, what is it this time? The moon's pretty full, has Katara done something? Has Cook finally snapped and tried to drown the crew in his salamander-chicken soup? Or is it something more straightforward, like we hit an iceberg and we're slowly but surely going down?"

"Nothing's wrong," Iroh said, his eyes fixed on the black ocean beneath them. "I just think that it's time to drop Katara back onto dry land."

"The only place I want to drop her is off a cliff," Zuko muttered, irritation burning.

"Think it through, nephew," Iroh said, patiently. "Use her as bait. She is too precious to the Avatar and her brother for them to just leave her."

"How would they know where she is?" Zuko asked, sceptical but willing to try anything that meant no more teenage Waterbenders aboard.

"They've been following the ship for about a day now," Iroh said, a trace of a smile appearing on his lips. "They think they're being subtle."

Zuko nodded curtly, half-annoyed that he hadn't seen the Avatar before now, half-angry that his uncle hadn't already mentioned it. But it didn't matter. He was faced with another chance to capture the Avatar, and he wouldn't let it slip out of his fingers.

"First thing in the morning, then," Zuko said decisively, as if he had come up with the plan. "We release her first thing in the morning."

He started crossing the deck, before pausing and turning back.

"We can't just push her into the ocean, can we?" At his uncle's disapproving look, he shrugged. "She's a Waterbender, it isn't like she'd drown or anything. It'd just knock her down a couple of pegs." Another frown. "No? Alright then."

A little disappointed, Zuko retired to his room. He'd need a full night's rest if he was going to face the Avatar tomorrow. He wouldn't need to come up with any sort of plan; his determination alone would be enough. He believed he could do it, therefore he would.

Or something along those lines. He should really start listening to Iroh's words of wisdom more. Who knew, maybe they were actually true.

He pushed open the heavy door to his room, looking forward to laying his head down after a tiring day. But, of course, the universe had other plans for him.

Katara the Waterbender was too busy tearing apart his room to notice Zuko's arrival. He watched her for a moment before sighing.

"I'm not even surprised," he told her. She jumped, straightened up and turned around. "That you're here," he elaborated when she stared at him.

Katara took a swift step to the right, putting Zuko's mattress between her and the boy himself. She trained her eyes suspiciously on him, as if she had every right to be here and _he _was the intruder.

"You're going home tomorrow," Zuko informed the girl.

"Home?" Katara repeated, her eyes narrowing. "You mean-"

"No!" Zuko cut in quickly, realizing too late how he should've phrased it. "I meant, back with your friends."

"Oh." She covered the disappointment in her voice with a hasty cough. "Your plan won't work."

Zuko scowled and was about to demand why not, before it struck him that he should at least try to play it cool.

"What plan?"

Katara shrugged and, after a conspicuous glance at the door behind Zuko, said, "I don't know what it is yet, but experience tells me you have a plan and experience again tells me that it'll fail."

Zuko felt his cheeks heating up, and tried to control his body temperature.

"You're wrong," he told her, he tone sharp.

"So there is a plan?" Katara asked, triumph glinting in her eyes.

Zuko's temper flared. "The plan is to get you off the ship before I do something I regret."

That wiped the smirk off her face.

"We're surrounded by water," she reminded him after a moment, her cool façade completely transparent. "If you attacked-"

"Not in here, we're not," Zuko interrupted smoothly. "And I don't think you know enough about Waterbending to fight me with water you can't see. So," he continued, without giving her time to reply, "you can tell me why you've messed up my room and then you can get out."

The girl folded her arms across her chest. "I was looking for something."

She stepped around the mattress, only stopping when Zuko mirrored her movements.

"Your manners?" he taunted.

"Your knife," she shot back, leaving him speechless for a moment. "I figured you'd have one, so I came here to look for it."

"And then you'd, what, threaten every person on board with a single knife?" The idea amused him. "Trained Fire Nation soldiers? Trained Fire Nation soldiers who are older, heavier, and more intimidating than you?"

Katara pressed her lips together, obviously annoyed.

"It didn't sound so ridiculous in my head. Now, let me leave."

Zuko turned and opened the door. He peered out into the corridor and sighed in irritation.

"I need to find someone to escort you to the holding cells."

Katara rolled her eyes. "Why? You said it yourself, I can't take on the whole ship, and if I'm going to be back with Sokka and Aang tomorrow there's really no point in trying to drown you all in your sleep."

"There's nowhere else for you to sleep," Zuko answered, sticking his head out into the hall again. "Although you're free to sleep in any of the crew's bunks."

"I'll take the cell," Katara answered quickly and coldly.

"I wasn't being serious," Zuko told her absently, still scanning up and down. Where were the others? There should at least be someone on patrol.

"You don't trust your men?"

Zuko scoffed. "I don't trust _you_."

Katara didn't know whether to be offended or pleased, so she kept her mouth shut and waited.

The silence that descended was awkward, to say the least. Zuko was considering walking the girl back to her cell himself, before something occurred to him.

"How long have you been wandering the ship for?" he asked, frowning.

If the girl's answer was anything longer than ten minutes, Zuko would be having a very interesting talk with the soldiers who were supposed to be making sure his ship was secure.

Katara shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't find your room straight away, so probably about half an hour. You should probably tighten your security," she added slyly.

"We're in the middle of literally nowhere, the only things likely to attack are penguins," Zuko replied, giving up on the idea that someone else would show up and turning back to the girl. "Come on."

"We're not in the middle of nowhere," Katara muttered. "I can walk by myself," she added sharply as Zuko made his way towards her.

She proceeded to display this skill, a little too quickly for Zuko's liking. Sure, she wasn't likely to escape, but he wanted to keep an eye on her just in case she did decide to pull something.

"You don't have to walk so close to me," she told him irritably after a moment.

Zuko chose to ignore this, instead saying, "Just stay in your cell tonight. I don't want to be constantly thinking you're going to kill me in my sleep."

"Well, now you know how we feel," Katara answered quietly. "Scary, isn't it?"

"I was going to go with annoying," Zuko said, "but I suppose that works too."

And he was having a conversation with her _why_, exactly? She was his prisoner. His infuriating, soon to be gone prisoner. He didn't owe her anything. The fact that he felt ever so slightly guilty at her question proved to him that he had been too soft on the peasant. He should have thrown her back into her cell the first time he discovered her elsewhere.

When they reached the brig, Katara's cell door was wide open. Zuko sighed in frustration.

"Did they even bother locking it, or did you just walk straight out?" he asked, glaring at the empty space.

"I don't think the General was quite comfortable with locking me away," Katara said, her voice implying that the following sentence would be something along the lines of, _unlike you, you complete monster._

Zuko found the unspoken words a little harsh.

"It was either this or tying you to a tree."

"And I suppose you think that's funny."

"Not really, since I don't think anything's actually grown here in hundreds of years."

"Well it's the North Pole, so no, it wouldn't have."

"Just get in the cell."

Katara shrugged and stepped inside, closing the door after her. When Zuko didn't move, she raised her eyebrows.

"Bye, then," she said pointedly.

Zuko didn't move. How could he, when the girl had so readily imprisoned herself? Insolence aside, it wasn't like her. She must be up to something. Besides, there were no keys to lock her in with and Zuko certainly didn't trust her enough to leave her alone for more than five minutes while he went and searched.

"I'm not leaving you here alone," he told the girl.

She was confused, to say the least.

"I think you proved you weren't a gentleman when you kidnapped me and held me against my will," she replied slowly.

"I have no interest in being a gentlemen when my ship's safety is being compromised," Zuko answered. "Unless you know where the key is, I'm not about to leave you alone."

Katara rolled her eyes and sat down on the mattress she had called a bed for the previous few nights. It was in admittedly better condition than she had expected, but it was still nothing luxurious.

"Fine. Well there's no chance of me sleeping while I know you're there," she shot back, leaning against the cold metallic wall and ignoring the shiver that ran up her back. "You don't trust me, and I don't trust you."

"Mature," Zuko muttered sarcastically.

"Sensible," Katara corrected, stretching her legs and tilting her head back to look at the ceiling. It was hardly thrilling, but it was better than talking to the Fire Prince.

"My uncle should be along soon to serve you a three course meal or something," Zuko said after a moment. "After that, he can be the one to guard you."

"Good." There was a pause, in which Katara's irritation went into overdrive. "And he doesn't give me _three course meals_, he gives me edible food and interesting conversation, which I'm sure is more than what you want me to have."

Zuko didn't say anything, mainly because he knew she was right.

"And, I'm sorry, but what kind of person are you? Not just for chasing the Avatar, but attacking innocent people and blackmailing his friends. Who does that?"

Zuko scowled and turned away from her. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, I do," Katara said, glaring at him. "Because whatever issues you have, you've dragged the rest of us into as well."

Zuko whirled around. "You have no idea, you self-righteous little girl!"

Katara shrank back into the wall a little, but when her next words came out they were steady and calm.

"Then tell me."

Zuko, who had been ready to shoot back a vitriolic reply, choked on his words. He frowned again and, at a loss, said,

"It isn't that simple."

Katara shrugged. "Sure it is. You tell me your reasons, and I decide if they're good enough to justify what you've put us through."

Zuko scoffed, unable to quite believe what he was hearing. If this peasant was from the Fire Nation, she'd have been tried for treason by now. Well, in the pre-banishment days anyway.

"We're not talking about this," he said quietly. "We're not talking about anything. Just go to sleep or something."

Katara was quiet for all of two minutes. Then,

"You shouldn't be so hard on your uncle."

"That's really none of your business."

More silence. Zuko was considering just letting Katara wander freely when she spoke up, in a softer voice than she'd used before.

"You said I'd go free tomorrow. Does that mean you've spoken to Aang and Sokka to arrange something? Are they alright?"

"You're worried about them."

It didn't make sense to Zuko. The Avatar could more than take care of himself and Katara's idiot of a brother was at least a fast-talker. They could get out of trouble easily enough. Except the trouble that was coming for them tomorrow, anyway.

Katara smiled at her mattress. "Of course I am. They've probably not eaten well or washed properly in four days."

"They're fine."

Zuko didn't know why he'd said that, it had sort of just slipped out. He didn't know of any contact between the Avatar and the ship, aside from his uncle noticing the bison. He had just never really thought that the Avatar needed someone to look after him, to remind him to wash, to…mother him. He should've seen it coming, though. Katara seemed to have the balance between gentle and strong down well enough to be a mother.

"They looked a little worse for wear, but they were fine," he continued, his mouth and brain having apparently severed all connection. "Happy to be getting you back."

"And I suppose they didn't question why you were suddenly eager to hand me back?" Katara asked, and from her sceptical tone Zuko knew he should've kept his mouth shut.

"Having spent more than five minutes alone with you, no," Zuko answered, the tender moment over.

They bickered back and forth for awhile, until Zuko realized that neither of them had had anything to eat for some time. And with a small part of him wanting to prove Katara wrong about what she said earlier, he cast a doubtful look at the girl, told her he'd be back shortly, and left to find dinner.

He strode through the ship, looking for his uncle. He'd forgotten to ask if Katara was allergic to anything, and for some reason he thought it important to find out. Because she was no good as bait if she was ill, he quickly rationalised. He should probably bring a chair down as well, if he was to spend the night there. There wasn't much point wasting time looking for the keys now.

He couldn't have been gone for more than fifteen minutes, but by the time he got back the cell was empty, its door flung wide open. Gritting his teeth in frustration and almost dropping the tray of food he had carried so carefully, Zuko stepped into the cell, just in case Katara was hidden by shadows.

"Rookie mistake," a voice informed him, and before he knew what was happening the cell door had shut with a clink of finality.

He threw aside the tray, ignoring the smash of porcelain on the metal floor, and tried to push the door back open a split-second after Katara had locked it.

"They were in my pocket the whole time," she explained with a shrug, indicating the keys. "I would say sorry, except I'm not. Sleep well!"

With a smile that made Zuko's blood boil, Katara ran up the steps and out of sight. Contrary to what Zuko would've expected, when Katara was rescued a few minutes later by the bison closely following overhead she didn't reveal how she had tricked the Fire Prince, instead lying to her friends that she had overpowered one of the soldiers.

But that was of little comfort to the imprisoned Zuko. He kicked at the door, ignoring his uncle's earlier warnings that he needed to work on his old man had been right, but Zuko would never tell him that. He rattled the cell bars and, when that didn't make him feel any better, kicked at the plates he had dropped. They made a satisfyingly destructive noise.

"Never trust girls," he muttered to himself, dropping down onto the mattress and trying to think of a plan to escape that wouldn't result in further humiliation.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed, reviews are appreciated :)**


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